


Weird Ways of Showing Sentiment

by Sherlockedancer



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, proposal, the ring - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 05:49:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3316520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlockedancer/pseuds/Sherlockedancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John receives Sherlock's possessions in the hospital after he has been shot, one of which is the ring he used to propose to Janine. John tries on the ring and is surprised to see it is a perfect fit. Confessions are made by both John and Sherlock about their true feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weird Ways of Showing Sentiment

John sat in a chair next to the hospital bed, trying his hardest not to fall asleep. It had been quite a long day with Sherlock nearly dying and all. The threat of nearly losing his friend to the cold hands of death again was enough to make John Watson feel like sleeping for a year. It was nearly 1:00 am when a nurse walked in and motioned for John to come over. Reluctantly he stood and walked over to the nurse.

“I have a few possessions that I’m required to hand over to his care-taker. I’m assuming that’s you?”

John sighed,

“Yes, I guess that would be me.”

“Great, it’s only a few things. His coat can stay here, but we found a wallet on him, as well as a box.”

John couldn’t help but cringe when he saw the box. It was, of course, the engagement ring. The fake engagement ring, that is. John still couldn’t believe the guts Sherlock had to create a fake relationship and a fake proposal, just to get closer to Magnussen. He grabbed the possessions from the nurse and placed them in his coat pocket.

“Erm, thanks, I’ll put these in a safe place for him.”

The nurse nodded and walked over to check on Sherlock,

“He’s doing pretty well, but he won’t be awake for several more hours, it’s probably fine if you want to go home. Some rest would probably do you good.”

John was sure he looked a wreck and the nurse was most likely worried about his well-being. So he decided to thank her again before leaving.

The air was cold and the dark streets were rather quiet. John pulled his coat tighter around himself as he walked through streets. He was suddenly struck with the memory of when he and Sherlock had observed the stars together that one night long ago in the alley way. The detective couldn’t name constellations for the life of him, yet he enjoyed their beauty. John soon found himself walking to Baker Street, rather than his new home with Mary. Baker Street would always be his true home, no matter how many times he might move in the future. He pulled out a key, that he always kept in his pocket, and opened the door as quietly as he could, careful not to wake Mrs. Hudson. The stairs creaked beneath his feet and he held his breath with each step he took. Finally he reached the living room and walked to the kitchen to make himself some tea, there was no way he was going to get any nightmare-less sleep tonight. The kettle boiled and John looked around the flat, pain and nostalgia soon flooding his heart as he looked at the mess Sherlock had going. He looked at the blank space where his chair used to sit and his heart sank. John would never admit it to Mary, but he missed his life in Baker Street. He missed solving case and sitting with clients in the living room. He missed late nights, Chinese food, and even Sherlock’s gross experiments. The kettle finally finished boiling and John poured himself some tea, before heading to the living room and sitting down in Sherlock’s chair.

 The change of perspective was weird. He had so often sat facing Sherlock that he hadn’t much observed the room from this angle. It felt bare without his own chair, or a crazy detective to keep him company. Suddenly John remembered the box he had stuck in his pocket. He pulled out the box and studied it. The box was simple, and black, but the brand was expensive. John opened the box and cringed. He couldn’t believe the extent Sherlock had gone to buy such an expensive ring. The light shined on the ring just so and John found that he rather liked the look of it. Carefully he lifted the ring out of the box and held it out in front of himself to get a better look. A single tear rolled down John’s cheek as reality set in. John was married now. After Sherlock died he moved on, found someone else to love. It hurt though, knowing that he had never told the detective his true feelings, and never would. He wondered if Sherlock had ever known. He was, after all, the only consulting detective in the world. He had to have seen at least a tiny bit of the attraction John had towards him. Knowing Sherlock though, he probably just ignored it. After all, he was married to his work.

Curiously John slipped the ring on his ring finger. Seconds later he froze as he realized that it was a perfect fit. His breath caught and he stared wide eyed at the ring. There was no way that this ring could have fit Janine. Her fingers were much smaller than John’s fingers. Had Sherlock bought the wrong size on accident? No, of course not. He was the most observant man in the world, he could probably figure out someone’s ring size with barely a glance. Then why had he bought this size? Why did John’s finger fit perfectly? A voice scared John out of his thoughts,

“I didn’t think you’d ever know.”

John glanced up and jumped again at realizing the voice was coming from a very pale and weak Sherlock, standing in the doorway.

“Sherlock! What in the world are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in the hospital. You were just shot, you nearly died for Christ sake! What are you doing?”

Sherlock merely laughed,

“I’m assuming you don’t know who shot me,”

John shook his head slowly as the detective limped into the living room. Quickly John jumped up and ran to Sherlock’s side, helping him into his arm chair. Sherlock sat down and pulled out a bottle from his coat pocket. He set the bottle down on the table next to him and began to speak again,

“I had my suspicions. I ignored them however, for your sake. You seemed so happy with Mary and I all I had ever wanted was for you to be happy. I ignored my deductions for the first time in my life, in hopes that you had chosen someone that truly loved you.”

John glanced over at the bottled and realized that it was a bottle of Clair De La’ Lune. He stared at it for a minute before Sherlock’s words sunk in and John’s heart sank.

“Who shot you Sherlock?”

“I’m so sorry John.”

“Don’t apologize! Just…just tell me. Who shot you?”

“Mary.”

It was one word, but it was one word that dissolved the universe and crushed the heart of one John Watson, who stood devastated in a flat that was no longer his own, with a friend who was no longer his flat mate. He dropped his head only for a moment before lifting and looking straight into the eyes of his favorite consulting detective. Slowly but surely a single tear rolled down his cheek and Sherlock had to glance away.

“I’m sorry John.”

“Don’t apologize Sherlock. It’s not your fault that I decided to marry a liar and killer. I should have known. It’s not your fault.”

“I just wanted you to be happy John.”

John cringed and knelt down in front of Sherlock, who had now started to silently sob.

“Sherlock, I think it’s time I told you the truth. I was never happy. Not with Mary at least. I was only ever truly happy when I was with you. Sure you left and I decided to marry her, but that was all just one big band-aid. I was trying to cover a hole that you had left in my heart that was un-fillable. I thought that maybe marrying Mary would help me forget those feelings that I never shared aloud with you. If anything though, those feelings got louder. When you returned I was really angry, and for a second, I was able to pretend those feelings didn’t exist and I got married. Being without you though, watching you nearly die again, and coming back here tonight, I’ve suddenly remembered those feelings. I miss it here, I miss Baker Street, I miss our clients, I miss crime scenes, and most importantly I miss you. So don’t for one second think any of this is your fault. It’s my fault for not telling you I loved you sooner. For pretending to love someone I didn’t, just because I was too afraid to tell you.”

“John, I’ve always made it my goal to be as honest with you as possible, but I have lied to you three times. The first being that I was dead when I was not, and you know that now. The second being that the ring I bought for Janine, I really bought for you, quite a long time ago I’m afraid. I never had the courage to even ask you out, yet I picked out a ring after the third day I had met you. The third lie, is that I always tell you that I don’t have feelings, that I don’t indulge in sentiment. I told you it was a weakness, and it is, and my sentiment for you is by far my biggest weakness. That ring, which you are now wearing, was always meant for you. It hurt me to even pretend it was for Janine. I just want you to know that I love you John Watson, I always have, and I always will, and I’m so very sorry I had to lie to you.”

John looked down at the two rings now on his finger. He pulled off the Sherlock’s and the detective lowered his head and nodded. John continued though, and reached down and pulled off his wedding ring from Mary. Sherlock looked at John and crinkled his eyebrows in confusion. John threw the ring from Mary into the fireplace and handed Sherlock the other ring.

Sherlock grabbed it and began to put it in his pocket. John grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

“No Sherlock. Give me the ring the proper way.” John slowly stood up and nodded down at Sherlock who was now looking up at John in complete confusion. “Ask me.”

“Ask you what?”

“You’re really not getting this are you?” John reached out his left hand to Sherlock, stretching out his fingers for easy access, “Ask me to marry you, properly.”

Sherlock interrupted, “But Mary…”

“Is a fake.” John finished. “Now ask me before I change my mind.”

Sherlock’s hands shook as he looked up at John and cleared his throat,

“John Hamish Watson, would you marry me?”

John smile bigger than ever before and nodded,

“Yes, I will marry you.”

Sherlock looked completely surprised,

“You will?”

“Yes.”

In one swift motion Sherlock slipped the ring onto John’s finger and John leaned down, pressing his lips to Sherlock’s. Sherlock quickly deepened the kiss and pulled John closer. John tangled his hands in Sherlock’s curls and pressed back. Finally Sherlock pulled back, looking rather pale in contrast to his dark lips.

“I think I should probably get some medical attention now. After all, I have just been shot.”

John’s eyes widened in panic as he remembered their situation.

“Oh my god Sherlock, I forgot. Let me call for help.”

“Too late, the medics should be here any second.”

Sure enough there was a brief knock on the door before it flew open and medics flooded the room.

“We heard there was a shooting.”

Sherlock’s eyes began to flutter as he whispered,

“Kind of, I think I am in need of medical attention.”

Soon Sherlock was back on a stretcher and wheeled out the door. John watched the ambulance drive away before heading backstairs and locking the door to the flat. He caught a glance at his ring and shook his head,

“Oh the weird ways Sherlock shows sentiment.”


End file.
